NYC Street Corner Battle Lyrics

[thug] I told you this f**kin guy man
Yo man, yo B, this is my f**kin block, get the f**k off

[Keith] Shut the f**k up
You never had a f**kin green card in your f**kin life
You don't any means to make f**kin money

[thug] What? What the f**k you talkin bout mayn?

[Keith] You f**kin stupid, plantella Adidas motherf**ker
[thug] Saturday Night Live, John Travolta a*s motherf**ker
[Keith] s*ck my d**k
[thug] You f**kin spaghetti and meatball eatin motherf**ker
[Keith] You don't have any f**kin knowledge
[thug] f**k you man, conio man, s*ck my d**k man
[Keith] Little Italy ay, you don't know about the.. real estate man
[thug] f**k you man, what the f**k you wanna do mayn?
[thug] You wanna do somethin mayn? You wanna do somethin mayn?
[thug] Take this mayn {*POP*} take this mayn {*POP*}
[thug] Take this mayn {*POP POP*} dead now!

[Tim Dog]
Here we go with some new shit, f**k the bullshit
Bronx niggaz rule shit, cause we always pull quick, what?
Motherf**ker back up, you know wha*sup
Put two in your gut, POP POP what, now shut 'em up
Mad niggaz wanna have this, murderous status
I'm known as the motherf**kin rhymin apparatus
The fattest, MC of the era, cause terror
Could niggaz f**k with this? Never, but however
Many foes try to apprehend, they can't comprehend
Cause when they step to me they don't win
I bend, break MC's who fake the funk
Leavin wack rappers in the back of my truck
Then eat some rat poison and I drink some ammonia
Came out bein that gastric felonious
serial killer, that you know, as Kujo
f**k around with Dog and get slammed like a sumo
"Waitin to Exhale" like Whitney, you can't get wit me
I wanna see that nigga from Uptown, who bit me
Bitin, never writin, that's not excitin
I'm invitin, all y'all s*ckers who like fightin
So come on, BRING IT ON, bring your weapon
No it's not rainin but you still gettin wettened
Smash your f**kin a*s like a Savage, I'm Randy
Niggaz don't want no beef cause I keep the tec handy
Shoot you from your head to your toe
You have so many holes in your shit it spells act like you know

[unknown female MC]
Well I thought you knew motherf**kers..
Now take a second while I reveal myself into the industry
By smokin lyrical chokin teacher provokin MC
Clear the way for me, unique, delete the weak
As I defeat the claim to be sweet, by keepin it street
Lazy poet and I don't got to have them tactics to turn fake rappers
and crack addicts, tell the weak hit from my bomb shit
Ooooh! Damn, no stress or contest, the impossible
I stand on top of them, no doubt about it, I'm unstoppable
Got a train of focus, e'ry track I smoke this
Cannabis is nice, six I'm causin a ruckus
You can't f**k with us, known for keepin it true
Not fakin the funk like bustaz, so what you gonna do?
I address, I'm better than fresh
Mo' potent than stress, now try to test, nigga!

[Kool Keith]
Yeah f**k y'all motherf**kers who need y'all whole album
to prove you got skills, s*ck this

I'm makin rappers load they apples pack up, move they wagons
My style like Bruce Lee, MC's walkin into the +Dragon+
My bald head super sharp, I walk like Telly Savales
Niggaz on a tightrope, they style is off balance
Hyper mental like Larry Davis on the instrumental
Rappers actin poodle, but I'ma drop the kennel
No threats; don't sleep on me you slept on Bernard Goetz
With a Berkowitz twist, your projects heard of this
My unique style retarded, kids smell the piss
With hand grenades I cut your rectum out with razor blades
Emergency please, gorillas bleedin through they knees
My style werewolf - AOWWWWWWWWWW!
I howl on your elevator, open your door, see you late
I drop sticks of dynamite, open your mailbox
Don't look for guns, I paid some crackheads for yo' glocks
Your style berback(?), lion tiger a*scrack
No need to worry low prices call me Crazy Eddie
I put the head to sleep and send that brain to Betty
I'm outtie.. five thousand eight

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